


Walls Paper Thin

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Drabbles [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mainly because i didn't write an ending, sorry friends, yes this work is a work that will never be completed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: Tony Stark was many things. Obnoxious was what came to the forefront of the Avengers’ mind when asked, though Steve continued with asshole and Thor continued with warrior.It was easy to put Tony Stark in a box.However, Tony Stark was also not a lot of things. He was not emotional, he was not kind, he was not helpful, he did not have feelings. Except, he was a little bit of all of those things, some more than others.





	Walls Paper Thin

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this in February (February!) and figured I might as well post it since I don’t think I’ll ever finish it. This is by far not the first time this trope has been done with Tony, and definitely not the best (it’s pretty terrible to be honest, it’s mostly a vent piece) but I hope y’all like it anyway.

Tony Stark was many things. Obnoxious was what came to the forefront of the Avengers’ mind when asked, though Steve continued with asshole and Thor continued with warrior.

It was easy to put Tony Stark in a box, obnoxious simply being the first. Selfish (despite being probably the biggest philanthropist after his mother, which everyone except Pepper, Coulson, and Rhodey seemed to routinely overlook), genius (probably the easiest to see, as he wore it on his ten thousand dollar Gucci sleeve with a self-satisfied smirk, and he  _liked it that way_ ), uncaring (and with his flippant attitude and rude-ass remarks, who  _wouldn’t_  think that he didn’t care for anyone except Pepper, Rhodey, and his very well loved ‘bots?), self absorbed (his appearance was important, he knew it and Pepper knew it and both took pride in it, but of course to others it would seem like petty pride), but most of all  _annoying_. It was easy to put Tony Stark in a box, there wasn’t much else to him, and he  _liked_  it that way. People saw what he wanted them to see, and the rest didn’t matter because frankly, the public shouldn’t know about those sides, and if the Avengers didn’t want to see those sides either (he desperately hoped they would; loneliness, despite himself, crept up on him when Pepper and Rhodey were away and JARVIS was the only one to talk to), then that was fine, because he preferred it that way. It was safer, and easier for him. Maybe he was emotionally stunted.

However, Tony Stark was also _not_  a lot of things. He was not emotional, he was not kind, he was not helpful, he did not have feelings. Except, he was a little bit of all of those things, some more than others.

It took a long time for the other Avengers to trust Tony, longer for some than others, but it took much, much longer for them to figure out that he actually _did_  feel things and struggle behind all those paper mache walls he had built up that somehow no one saw through but Pepper and Rhodey.

Bruce trusted him first, and his reasoning of course was why not trust Tony when clearly Tony trusted him a lot, and Tony deserved his trust because of that, and he had far proved himself in the Battle of Manhattan to be trustworthy; but it was Clint who  _saw_  him first.

Clint, who was closer to Tony than anyone on the team at first except his Science Bro Banner, didn’t keep Tony at arm’s distance. In fact, he would even say he liked Tony, though he wouldn’t admit it to Natasha or Steve, both of whom had seemed to take a disliking to the man. He enjoyed screwing around with him, talking about battle strategies or new arrow ideas or listening to Tony ramble animatedly when Pepper wasn’t there about some new project, not wanting feedback but just excited at the idea of it, or just sharing stupid stories (and Tony had  _many_  of those, and Clint felt deep seated laughter that brought a grin on his face whenever he saw the look on Tony’s that meant he was about to get started up about something stupid). True, Clint knew Tony was incredibly formidable in battle, a genius, and a goddamn asshole to boot, but Clint liked all of those things and it made Tony who he was as they bantered back and forth in sarcastic retort until Natasha threatened to castrate one or both of them – but those things didn’t make him trust the man.

Still, it seemed Tony liked Clint as well, because as Clint saw more of Tony he began to have JARVIS calling upon him into Tony’s workshop – as far as he knew, only Banner had been there before, for long stretches of time when he wanted to get out of his lab, or for conversations to bounce ideas and theories off of Tony. Tony trusted very little with his toys, and Clint was surprised, and impressed that he had earned the trust of the man who clearly trusted  _no one_.

While Bruce and Tony talked animatedly about science, and it was true that Tony was very excitedabout things like that, it was different. The genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist obviously was excited about science; it came with the ‘genius’ part. It was different from having emotion.

But the walls crumpled, leaving small holes to see through, in Tony’s precious lab. Clint could see it in the way that he adoringly stroked Dum-E as he introduced it to Clint, and how the ‘bot cooed adoringly back while it waved its arm at the marksman. He could see it in the way Tony would get deep into his work, forgetting that Clint was there, and hum and sing along to the loud music JARVIS blared to please his creator, and the way Dum-E and U and Butterfingers would click and coo and whir right along with him whenever he did. He could see it in the way Tony’s eyes lit up whenever Clint asked to see what he was working on, or told him how impressive the new weapons he had created were, or asked him to help reinforce his bow and quiver. He could see it in how whenever Tony went to check on Bruce in his lab and found him unconscious, strewn across the table (as Tony himself was so ought to do), he carried him over to the small bed in the corner (which graced each of the labs and workshops, as Tony was even more a workaholic than Banner and ended up spending days without seeing anyone but his ‘bots) and tucked him in gently, humming and brushing his hair until he settled again before turning and securing the lab so it was safe and going back the way he’d come. (It seemed Banner assumed that it was Steve doing this, and not Tony, which was more likely and Clint would’ve believed it if he hadn’t been in the air ducts exploring and seen it with his own two eyes.)

Clint saw it first. It took much, much longer for the rest to see it.

Tony had a perpetual habit of being a nuisance, it was one of his boxes, and around the Avengers he played it very well. He enjoyed seeing Barton and Bruce’s eyes sparkle with amusement at his shenanigans, and Thor questioning what he had said or what he was doing, even if he hated when Steve or Natasha turned their very cold eyes on him and he thought, for sure this time, he would certainly die. It didn’t make him stop, though true it fueled nightmares, but nobody expected him to stop, least of all himself. This was who he was, and he liked who he was despite it, and if the others didn’t like him he wasn’t going to change himself just for that. Pepper would smack him if he did.

But one night, after a particularly hard battle the day before, he must’ve went too far.

He had only ventured to the kitchen for coffee that he so desperately wanted to keep his own nightmares at bay, and found himself a hollow-looking Steve Rogers, clutching a cup of coffee himself which, if the pot was anything to judge by, was now frightfully cold.

And he didn’t really know what it was he said out of turn, what was different in what he did or what had set Rogers off, but now he was being dragged from the kitchen in a grip he was so deathly sure would break his arm, and dammit he was scared.

“Spangles, what the fuck man! Let me go, jeez, I’m sorry!”

“You’re not,” Steve snarled, and it registered faintly to him that he was acting exactly the same as all those bullies he hated so much, but dammit, Tony was a bigger bully, and sometimes it took a downpour to put out a fire. “You don’t have the capacity to feel something like sorry.”

“Steve, man, let me go.” Tony was getting really scared now, and it was all he could do to keep his cool demeanor, keep his tone the same as ever, like they were simply joking around. But the super soldier tightened his grip and Tony had to keep from crying out, and he was pretty sure any time now he would wet his goddamn pants because outside of the suit there was no way to protect himself from someone like Rogers. “JARVIS! Em-” But he was cut off by a strong grip over his mouth, panicking him, making him (fruitlessly) lash out at the person who was supposed to be his teammate and friend.

“ _Sir, I will-_ ”

“Mute, JARVIS.” And for all that he didn’t know about technology, Steve knew one thing – JARVIS couldn’t do anything while muted, because Tony only ever muted him when something was dangerous and he wanted to handle it himself.

So he found a suitable door, opened it to a guest room, found the closet, shoved Tony in, and locked it, and then locked the room door for good measure. And it was only later that guilt would make Steve nauseous and he would realize he had gone too far, but even a super soldier who had been chosen for his virtue could become angry and morally dubious when going on 36 hours no sleep, the worst nightmare of his life (which was saying something), and the stupid, mocking face of Tony Stark.

Now, hearing muffled banging and some shouting, he returned to bed, and slept with blissful grayness until waking up in the morning for breakfast. And truth be told, he didn’t even remember what he had done – he believed it was a shameful (very shameful) dream, because there was no way he would do that to one of his team. Furthermore, there was no way Tony Stark would’ve been scared (because it was true, as Steve had walked away from the door Tony had just been begging the man to let him out, and he was scared, and JARVIS couldn’t help him and the ‘bots didn’t know and Pepper was gone and Rhodey was on a mission and – oh God – the others wouldn’t care). There was no way it was real; just another nightmare.

Breakfast was very quiet without Tony, almost peacefully so, and Clint actually wondered where he was, because for all the man worked food was the one thing the man seemed to worship religiously – he never missed a meal and was always snacking on something. But, after glancing at Bruce, he saw the doctor seemed unconcerned about his friend and Barton shrugged to himself, supposing that maybe Tony was distracted or passed out again.

It was just after breakfast was finished that the call came from Fury about the monster in downtown.

It was just after the battle that Natasha was fuming, screaming about how irresponsible Tony was and Clint was wondering just where the genius had gone to, because it wasn’t like him to miss a battle. Clint knew better than the others how determined Tony was in a fight (and he was perhaps more determined than Cap – certainly he had less regard for is safety). And it was also just after battle that Clint glanced at their captain, expecting him to be almost red in anger, only to find him pure white, blinking.

That probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Cap, I’m sure he’s probably sick or something and couldn’t contact us. We’ll go check on him when we get back, okay, and if he was flaking then you can blow your top.” And Nat rounded on him, pointing a shaking finger and no doubt going to accuse him of taking Stark’s side, when Steve spoke up in a voice that bespoke nausea.

“No… I know where he is.”

“Where?” Bruce asked curiously as he emerged from the quinjet, wrapped in a blanket and looking worse for wear – the Hulk always took a lot out of him. “Certainly not someplace more important that this. He was here yesterday, didn’t say he had a business trip.” Steve swallowed, looking sick and guilty.

“I locked him in a closet.”

Clint blinked, and had to admit that sometimes Tony was asking for that, but Natasha gasped, her anger now shock and very much redirected.

“You did what?” Her whisper was deadly. “Cap, did they even give you Stark’s file?”

Clint didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it was bad (though if it involved Tony it was always bad), and he was, surprisingly, in the quinjet before Natasha was, firing it up as Steve and Bruce joined them.

It took them three minutes to get back to the Tower.

It took them two minutes of screaming at JARVIS for Steve to remember what he had done and unmute him.

It took JARVIS thirty seconds for all the alarms in the building to be blaring, Fury to be on call with a very upset A.I., and for him to angrily (could a computer be angry?) declare that emergency services were on their way and he demanded the Avengers leave the Tower at once and never touch ‘sir’ again, on fear of death.

It took Bruce another five minutes to try and calm JARVIS down, and beg the A.I. to let him and Clint see Tony, because they were worried about him (and really, they all were, because if Natasha was serious about something concerning Tony Stark then it was really serious).

It took two more minutes for JARVIS to relent, leading them to a locked room in which was an equally locked closet, with soft sobbing coming from inside and the soothing voice of JARVIS trying to bring Tony back to reality. And Clint knew that was what he was doing, from the way he was repeating the weather, the date, where they were, the condition of Tony’s various projects, how close help was – grounding the engineer. And Bruce knew then what was wrong, and it was so wrong, because Tony didn’t, simply didn’t…  _feel_. Sure, to some extent, but not like this.

Clearly he was wrong, since as soon as the door opened Tony was screaming and attacking them violently, and he wailed for JARVIS and Pepper as Clint and Bruce tried to restrain him while JARVIS assured he was there, sir, he was right there, it was the 4th of the month and the weather outside was slightly cloudy and 72 degrees and they were at the heart of Manhattan, and please, sir, stop fighting, you’re going to hurt yourself.

It was also that day when they found out while Tony was a very hard man to trust, it was even harder to earn the trust of him.

The dislocated shoulder was a problem, and the PTSD was an even bigger problem, but the biggest problem was the fact that he would let no one except his beloved ‘bots (who JARVIS had, in the best interest of his creator, released from the lab and sent to calm him) touch him. In fact, if anyone except the ‘bots or Coulson came within ten feet of him, he started screaming and went into another panic attack, and then it was the bots cooing and blinking and whirring and extending their mechanical arms all over again, trying to calm their broken father, trying to soothe him. And then it was the ‘bots and Coulson finally soothing the great Tony Stark, the Iron Man, into an uneasy and clearly nightmare filled sleep, and the beloved creations turning on the Avengers. Natasha swore that if camera lenses could look furious, the ‘bots’ eyes would’ve been flaming.

“ _Captain Rogers_ ,” JARVIS said coolly, though his voice was quiet in attempts to keep his creator from waking, “ _I must demand that you and the rest of the Avengers leave this tower at once. You have intruded upon sir’s home and betrayed our trust, and in his best interest, as I am authorized to protect him, I ask that you clear from our home before I must force you._ ”

“JARVIS,” Steve coughed out, his eyes bloodshot and his skin pale. “JARVIS, I didn’t know he would react like that. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“ _With all due respect, Captain Rogers, what exactly did you mean when you locked sir in a closet within his own house, out of reach of help, for nearly thirteen hours?_ ” If JARVIS’s voice could get any colder, or the whirring and clicking from Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers any louder, the anger in the room would be palpable. Anger from several A.I.’s that clearly cared for their creator as much as he cared for them.

Steve didn’t have a response to that, and neither did the others. It was also that day that the team learned the only harder thing to do than earn the trust of Tony Stark was earn back the trust of his ‘sons’.

It was Fury who broke the stalemate, storming in and growling “What the hell happened?!” And it was JARVIS who coldly answered.

“ _Director Fury, I must demand you keep your voice lowered in order to keep sir from waking. I believe that is an inevitability no one would like at this point in time. Since you already know of sir’s past, I will tell you the basics of what has happened. Captain Rogers was up last night, I believe from a nightmare, and sir walked in to get coffee in order to keep awake. I believe he was afraid of nightmares himself. Sir, being who he is, engaged in conversation with Captain Rogers-_ ” Fury snorted, knowing the implications of what JARVIS meant, “ _-and Captain Rogers took offense, locking sir within a closet and preventing me from being able to help. Sir was locked within the closet for precisely twelve hours and thirty-nine minutes, during which he alternatively had flashbacks or tried to break down the door. Exactly twenty-three minutes ago, Captain Rogers and the others returned from a mission, unmuted me, and allowed me to obtain help for sir. I believe I do not have to clarify the implications of what has happened, but if you necessitate it, I shall do so._ ” Fury, rage now showing on his face, glanced at the Avengers.

“JARVIS, clarify for us.”

_“Certainly, Director Fury. I do believe being forced into the darkened closet reminded sir of his confinement in a cave in Afghanistan, during which he was tortured and forced to create the Iron Man suit to escape. As a result his PTSD, which he told me only a few weeks ago he thought he finally had a handle on, sent him into a very terrifying situation. He had a total of seven moments of clarity, during which he demanded I let him out, and those seven moments lasted a collective total of thirty-three minutes of the time he was in the closet. I believe it was around hour five when he dislocated his shoulder attempting to run the door down. Is that enough clarity, Director Fury?”_


End file.
